


So, Second Date?

by orphan_account



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: First Dates, First Times, M/M, More Sex, Porn, Pure Porn, Sex, sexsex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-15
Updated: 2013-02-15
Packaged: 2017-11-29 08:37:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,463
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/684975
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mycroft brings Greg home after their Valentine's day date. Sexytimes ensue.</p>
            </blockquote>





	So, Second Date?

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MystradeSexyTimes](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MystradeSexyTimes/gifts).



"That was a lovely dinner," Greg said as he and Mycroft walked up the pathway to the government official's stately flat.

"Glad you enjoyed it," Mycroft replied, swinging his umbrella gently as the pair approached the heavy wooden door. "I hope that your enjoyment of our date has coloured your opinion of me, and I might see you again?"

"Of course," the DI replied, pausing at the door. "Well...It's been a lovely Valentine's day, Mycroft. I really did enjoy myself."

"Is there any reason it has to end?" the ginger smiled devilishly, raising one eyebrow in the way that he knew would make the DI weak in the knees.

"What? Oh, I...uh..." Greg stammered, his mouth going dry; he hadn't expected this. Not on a first date, and _certainly_ not from Mycroft Holmes. "That would be...Are you sure?"

"Of course I'm sure," Mycroft rolled his eyes, "Not many people are invited into my flat, you know."

"Has there been anyone here before?" Greg questioned, honestly curious. 

"Once or twice, though none of my endeavors in the field of romance have gone very far, mind you." the government official replied. "Am I to assume that your answer is affirmative?"

"Yeah. Definitely," the DI grinned; not only had he spent Valentine's day, one of the most sentimental holidays of the year, with Mycroft bloody Holmes, but if things worked in his favour (which they usually didn't, but this was a pleasant surprise) he'd also be having mind-blowing sex with him (well...if all went as planned). "Let's go, then, yeah?"

Mycroft smiled and pushed the key into the lock on his front door, wrapping his long, elegant fingers around the knob and turning. "I trust you'd like a drink first, yes?" he questioned as he pushed open the door.

"I think I've had enough for the night," Greg admitted, daring to reach out and brush his hand against Mycroft's arse as he walked inside. Mycroft turned his head, arching up an eyebrow. "My, my, you're a bold one, aren't you?"

"Would you have agreed to go out with me if I weren't?"

"Touche, Inspector," Mycroft chuckled, turning on the light switch right next to the front door, suddenly bathing the room in a warm light. "Welcome."

Greg whistled as he glanced around the flat; expensive furniture, carpets, and what looked to be at least four bookshelves just in the sitting room stocked to the brim with literary masterpieces. By the looks of it, everything Mycroft owned probably cost more than a month's rent for Greg. Which reminded him, he had to call his landlord in the morning...

"Gregory?"

"Hm?" 

"Shall we, ah...?" Mycroft gestured to a well-lit, ornately decorated corridor, which presumably lead to Mycroft's master suite. "Are you still interested, or would you prefer a tour?"

The silver-haired man chuckled nervously, then shook his head, biting the inside of his cheek. "I'd prefer to get things started, yeah? I mean, if you still want to, and I completely understand if you don't-"

"You're babbling," Mycroft interrupted, bored, "If you would follow me, please."

"Sorry, sorry," Greg blushed, "Just nervous, I guess."

"Understandably. This is a rather awkward situation," the ginger replied, "And you have had a bit to drink..."

"Not that much," the DI protested, "I'm no lightweight."

"Mm, sure you're not," Mycroft teased, smirking. "Come."

"Bet that's not the last time that word'll be said tonight," Greg muttered as he followed Mycroft down the hallway. The government official rolled his eyes at the joke, setting his umbrella down in one of the three stands that were scattered about the long hallway. Several of them already contained umbrellas; expensive ones, if the logos on several of the handles were any indication, Greg noted. "Exactly how many umbrellas do you have?" he questioned, curious. "I've only ever seen you with that one." he nodded at the previously discarded umbrella, furrowing his brow as Mycroft pushed open the door to his master bedroom. 

The DI watched as the door swung open, then cautiously followed Mycroft inside, almost as if he were afraid to disturb anything. Which he was, actually; he felt that if Mycroft saw him as anything less than perfect, he'd become disinterested in him. But, then again, the man _was_ about to see him naked, so he supposed it wouldn't be the worst thing in the world if he were to trip over something.

"Nice," he murmured, glancing around the room. It was nicely decorated, with white walls and carpet, along with dark blue, almost navy walls. Both the bedframe and every item of furniture in the room were a dark, polished wood, similar to that of Greg's bookshelf back at the flat (but most likely eighteen times more expensive), and it matched the decor nicely. "You have good taste in colours." the DI remarked as Mycroft shut the door behind them, the knob shifting into place with a soft 'click'.

"Of course I do," Mycroft smirked, "I have the money to hire designers. In reality, I'm colour-blind."

"Seriously?" Greg asked incredulously, "I didn't know that."

"Most don't," the ginger admitted, stepping close enough to the DI so the toes of both their shoes were almost touching. He tilted his head down, making eye contact with Gregory; steely grey meets soft brown. "Now that the... _pleasantries_ are over," he murmured, trailing his fingers down the DI's tie, twisting it between the digits, "What do you say we...make this a Valentine's day to remember?"

Greg swallowed, his confidence surging; they were in his domain now. Mycroft may have been good with recognizing expensive wines and speaking other languages, but there was one area in which Greg knew no one could even come close to beating him; sex.

"Absolutely," he replied, his voice low and husky, "Though I doubt you'll be able to tell anyone about it for weeks. I'm going to make sure that smug mouth of yours is otherwise occupied for quite awhile." Greg wrapped an arm around Mycroft's waist, brushing his curls off of his forehead with the other hand. 

"Is that a promise?" Mycroft breathed, leaning forward so his lips were almost touching Greg's. 

"You tell me," the DI growled, trailing his hand down Mycroft's back and giving his arse a firm squeeze. The government official let out a surprised noise at the sudden assault on his arse, but quickly allowed his jaw to go slack as another part of him responded eagerly to the needy touches. "Hm, yes," he breathed, nudging the corner of Greg's mouth with his own, "Like that..."

"What, this?" Greg smirked, giving Mycroft's arse another squeeze before reaching up to tug his shirt out of his trousers, sliding his hands up under the expensive fabric to feel the hot skin underneath. Mycroft hissed at the contact, leaning his head back, exposing a long, slender, pale neck that just begged to be marked, claimed. "Gorgeous," the DI murmured, leaning forward to scrape his teeth along the sensitive skin. Mycroft let out a surprised noise, but allowed the DI to continue his ministrations, biting his lip as the DI's tongue darted out to soothe the sting away. 

"Oh, god, yes..."

"Hm," Greg hummed, "I wonder just how sensitive that neck really is."

"Very," Mycrot hissed, "Just..."

"Just what?" the DI teased triumphantly, "Is the great Mycroft Holmes going to _beg_ for something?"

"For god's sake," Mycroft groaned, "Please."

The older man's smile widened, and he nodded, pressing his lips to Mycroft's neck again. "You like this?" he murmured, "Tell me what you want."

Mycroft opened one eye, glancing down at the DI. "You're very...giving, aren't you?"

"Oh, for god's sake," the DI pulled Mycroft forward, stepping back until the backs of his knees hit the edge of the king-sized mattress, "If you're still capable of cognitive speech, I'm not doing my job right."

The ginger laughed at the joke, then gasped as he was pulled into Greg's lap (how the hell had he managed to wriggle out of his jacket without Mycroft noticing?). "Gregory-"

"Hm?" the DI resumed his assault on Mycroft's neck, trailing soft kisses and bites down to the collar of his expensive shirt and running his tongue over the patch of chest hair peeking out from underneath Mycroft's red silk tie. "Off with that," he breathed, reaching up with his left hand and deftly untying the knot, sliding the smooth fabric down Mycroft's shirt. The ginger let out a soft sigh as he felt Greg's gentle hands unbuttoning his shirt, and a pair of lips being pressed against his ear.

"You're brilliant, you know that?" the DI murmured, pushing Mycroft's jacket off his shoulders, allowing it to drop to the floor. "Simply. Bloody. Brilliant." Greg articulated each word with another bite to Mycroft's neck, moving down to his collarbone and running his tongue along the jutting bone. "Lovely," he murmured, pressing his lips against the left side of Mycroft's chest, nudging his shirt out of the way to get better access to his nipples. 

"Gregory-"

The DI didn't give Mycroft a chance to finish, and closed his mouth around the government official's left nipple, flicking his tongue out against the hard little nub.

"Oh, god!" Mycroft moaned, arching into the DI's touch; it had been far too long since anyone had done this for him. "You like that?" the silver-haired man breathed, pulling back and blowing across the wet skin. "Yes," Mycroft hissed, "Yes, god, yes."

The older man smiled and ran his hand over Mycroft's side, tracing his fingers along the younger man's love handles. "Take off your shirt," he murmured, leaning up to kiss the corner of Mycroft's mouth, "Or would you rather I fuck you with it on?"

Mycroft shuddered at the way Greg said 'fuck'; it was commanding and sexy and romantic all at once, something the government official didn't think was possible until that point. He managed to unclench his hands (which were firmly attached to the DI's shoulders by this point) and move them behind his back, tugging off the collared shirt with a newfound sense of urgency. As the cool air kissed his skin, he suddenly felt very naked (well, he was half-naked, after all, but Gregory was fully dressed) and automatically crossed his arms over his chest. 

"Something wrong?" Greg questioned, pausing for a moment to run his hands over Mycroft's tense shoulders.

"No, it's just...well..."

"What?"

"I feel rather naked."

"Would it be better if I were undressed?" the silver-haired DI laughed, "Because you're going to be even more naked in about two minutes."

"Probably, yes."

"Alright then. Off." Greg gave Mycroft a gentle shove, allowing the government official to extract himself from his lap. Mycroft stood, shifting his weight back and forth as Greg stripped; first his shirt and jacket, then his belt, and finally his trousers and shoes, leaving him standing in front of Mycroft clad in nothing but a pair of pale blue boxers (which were most _definitely_ tented). Mycroft raised his eyebrow at the colour, and looked up at the DI curiously. "Blue?"

"Goes well with my hair, don't you think?" Greg deadpanned, causing Mycroft to snicker in absolute delight. "You're terrible. And you're ruining the mood."

"Well then," the DI replied, stepping closer to Mycroft and slipping his arms around the ginger's waist, "I'll fix that. On the bed."

"When did you become so bloody demanding?" Mycroft questioned, obeying the DI's command and sitting back on his bed.

"I'm always demanding. I'm just good at hiding it," Greg muttered, a teasing tone in his voice.

Mycroft was about to reply with a snide comment, but found himself incapable of speech as Greg's hands moved to unbutton his trousers. His mouth went dry, and the only thing he could think of was his growing arousal, which was now pressed rather uncomfortably against the confines of his wool trousers. "Gregory..." he breathed, his voice barely a whisper, " _Please_..."

"Now who's the demanding one?" the DI chuckled, leaning forward and taking the zipper between his teeth. He pulled it down slowly, gazing up at Mycroft with smug, confident eyes. The government official groaned and squirmed, desperate for more. "I said please," he half-whined, "Come _on_..."

"Fine, fine," the DI muttered, "Bossy."

"You're _just_ noticing this?" Mycroft chuckled breathlessly, "Come on."

Greg didn't reply, instead slipping his fingers into Mycroft's belt loops and gently tugging at his trousers. "Lift." he commanded. Mycroft obliged, and Greg slid the trousers down his legs, pausing to remove both his shoes and socks before pulling the trousers completely off and tossing them aside. Greg smirked at the sight of the outline of Mycroft's cock, straining against his white pants. "Mm, gorgeous," the DI murmured, leaning forward and rubbing his cheek against the bulge between Mycroft's legs. The ginger let out a loud gasp and tipped his head back, the delicious friction too much and not enough at the same time. "Gregory..." he breathed, " _Please_!"

"That's what I like to hear," the DI murmured, "Lift again."

Mycroft didn't bother waiting for Greg to take off his pants for him, instead taking hold of the fabric himself and tugging it down as quickly as his clumsy fingers would allow. He finally managed to get them off, sighing with relief as his cock sprung free, swollen and red. He bit his lip and reached down, stroking himself gently. "Oi," Greg swallowed at the sight of Mycroft's cock, "My job." The DI pushed Mycroft's hands away, taking both his wrists and pinning them down on the bed. Mycroft made a noise of surprise that was quickly swallowed as Greg's tongue came into contact with his cock.

Greg smirked, then ran his tongue over the head of Mycroft's cock, eliciting a shudder from the younger man. "Gregory..." Mycroft bit his lip harder, arching into the DI's touch. "Oh, god..."

"Like that?" the DI chuckled, holding Mycroft's wrists down even more forcefully.

"Yes," Mycroft moaned, "Please, god..."

"Nope, just me."

"Oh for god's sake," Mycroft lifted his head to glare at the DI. "Get on with it!"

Greg chuckled, then shrugged. "If that's what you want." He ended his sentence by pressing his lips against the tip of Mycroft's cock, then taking the entire thing in his mouth and sucking hard. "Oh _Christ_!" Mycroft cried, arching off the bed, eyes squeezed shut in ecstacy.

The DI hummed, satisfied, and pulled back just enough to rub Mycroft's slit with the tip of his tongue, lapping up the bit of precum that had gathered there. The government official let out a sinful moan, trying to pull his wrists away from the older man's firm grasp, desperate to tangle his fingers in the short, greying hair that was now bobbing in his lap.

"Please, more," the ginger cried out as Greg increased his suction, swirling his tongue along the underside of Mycroft's cock. 

"Mm," the DI murmured, pulling off of Mycroft's cock with a slight pop, "More?"

"Yes," Mycroft practically begged (how a common detective inspector had reduced the great Mycroft Holmes to pleading and begging with a few simple sexual acts was completely beyond Mycroft's realm of understanding at the moment), "More."

"Why didn't you say so?" the DI said huskily, standing up to his full height and hooking his thumbs into the waistband of his pants. He tugged them down slowly, allowing Mycroft the immense pleasure of watching his cock spring out from inside them. Mycroft mentally patted himself on the back for not gasping at the size of the DI's erection. "You're...Wow..." he breathed, all cognitive thoughts leaving his mind.

The silver-haired man grinned, stepping out of the pants that were now pooled around his ankles. "You like?" he chuckled. Mycroft nodded, too dumbstruck to speak; for the first time, Mycroft Holmes was speechless. "Very much," he managed finally, "There's some....in the drawer..."

Greg reached forward and cupped Mycroft's face in his hands, forcing their eyes to meet. "Do you know what I'm going to do to you?" he murmured as he fumbled in the top drawer of Mycroft's nightstand for a bottle of lubricant and (presumably) a condom. "I'm going to lay you down on the bed," he whispered, extracting a bottle of lube and a condom from the drawer before slamming it shut with a bang. 

"I'm going to climb onto you," The DI squirted some of the lube into his hand, warming it between his fingers before crawling between Mycroft's legs and spreading them. 

"And into you," Greg pressed his fingers against Mycroft's quivering entrance, the same shaking with anticipation. The DI leaned forward, pressing his lips to Mycroft's ear as he slipped a single finger inside him, waiting for the signal to continue, speaking in a low, soft voice. "Deep...inside, you..."

Mycroft moaned loudly and gave a nod, reaching up his (finally free) wrists to tangle his hands in the short, grey hair atop Greg's head, his entire body now trembling at the feeling of a second finger inside him. "Please, Gregory," he murmured, "Please..."

"Whatever you want," the DI chuckled, suddenly nervous, quickly removing his fingers, picking up the bottle of lube and squirting just a bit too much into his hands to coat himself with. He slicked the lube onto his cock, drawing in a deep breath. "Gregory..." Mycroft gazed up at the DI with pleading eyes, "Please..."

Greg nodded in understanding, setting the tube of lubricant aside and taking a deep breath. He carefully nudged Mycroft's legs all the way apart, exposing his wet, open hole, and pushed them nearly all the way up to his chest. The DI swallowed and shut his eyes at the sight of Mycroft, sweating, panting, and practically begging to be fucked, overwhelmed by the sight. "Christ, Mycroft," he murmured, taking hold of his cock and pressing the tip against the government official's entrance, "You're fucking amazing."

Mycroft let out a pitiful whine, begging the older man to just get on with it already. Greg took another deep breath and slowly pushed just the head of his cock into Mycroft, pausing for a moment to allow the younger man to adjust. Mycroft fisted his hands in the sheets, throwing his head back and forth in desperation. The silver-haired man stared down in awe at Mycroft; he couldn't believe that Mycroft Holmes was coming undone, and he was the one doing it. "Easy," he murmured, unsure of how he was actually speaking at the moment, as he certainly didn't feel capable of cognitive speech.

"Come on," Mycroft begged, his eyes suddenly snapping open and staring up at Greg, his steel-grey irises almost completely obscured by his blown pupils. 

"Fuck," the DI lost all his inhibitions and finally pushed into Mycroft until his cock was fully sheathed inside the younger man. He let out a loud groan, his legs shaking with the effort of holding himself back, as he wanted nothing more than to just pound the younger man into the mattress. But, courteous man that he was, he wanted to let Mycroft adjust first. Which didn't exactly take long, judging by how eagerly he was clenching around the DI. 

"You alright?" the silver-haired man grunted, biting the inside of his lip.

"For god's sake, fuck me!" Mycroft cried, throwing his head back and moaning in ardent passion.

"Christ," Greg muttered in reply, "Alright."

The DI trailed his fingers down Mycroft's chest before grabbing onto his hips and giving a small thrust, eliciting both a cry of pleasure and a moan from the younger man. Encouraged by Mycroft's noises, he thrust again, deeper this time. The ginger let out a loud cry (a pleasurable one, the DI hoped) and Greg smiled, gripping Mycroft's hips a bit harder and beginning a steady rhythm.

The mattress creaked, the sheets rustled, and the pair gasped and yelled, both of them slick with their own sweat and that of the other. Mycroft begged for Greg to switch his position just a little, to hit the sweet spot inside of him. The DI obliged, pounding into Mycroft in a way that he hadn't been able to do since his twenties.

It was over far too quickly, with both of them screaming the other's name upon their respective releases. Greg gave Mycroft a moment to relax afterward, then slowly eased out of him, his cock falling limp against his leg. He flopped down on the mattress next to Mycroft, panting heavily. "Holy shit," he breathed, throwing an arm over his eyes and taking Mycroft's hand in his own. "That was... _God_..."

"Brilliant? Lovely? Mind-blowing?" Mycroft finished, running his tongue over his lips to re-moisten them. "Yes."

"Yeah, that," the DI agreed, leaning over to rest his head on Mycroft's shoulder. "So...second date?"


End file.
